


wrong message, wrong time

by ratherthepoint



Series: right messages, wrong times [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Look Sending in the wrong hands has so much angst potential you know, Post c2e128, Psychological Torture, Trent Ikithon Being an Asshole, via the use of Sending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29912700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherthepoint/pseuds/ratherthepoint
Summary: Many times, as Jester had sent messages full of filler words and swearing to anyone and everyone, the Mighty Nein had joked about the terrible power the Traveler had given her with this spell. They had laughed as Essek or Allura had groggily responded to a late-night invasive question with confusion and exasperation. Sure, the ominous messages to Beau’s father were a little much, but he deserved it, didn’t he? For the Mighty Nein, Sending had always been funny, a tension breaker, a relief in their stressful days.No one was laughing anymore.-OR, Trent Ikithon sends many messages and no one is happy about it
Series: right messages, wrong times [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199564
Comments: 23
Kudos: 110





	wrong message, wrong time

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again!! Listen, I wasn't planning on posting anything more in particular. And then I discovered that comments and kudos are basically just molecules of serotonin injected directly into my brain??? Holy heck, it's better than Zoloft you guys. So anyways, now I'm back with something only tangentially related to the last one, in that I had more angsty ideas and that one worked as well as anything to set this one up. 
> 
> Matt had Trent send three messages to Caleb and my goblin brain went "angst!!" and so here we are. If he didn't want me to gratuitously use Sending to hurt Caleb then he shouldn't have started it. Warnings for Trent being a creep!! Again, please take D&D canon with a grain of salt, I don't have time for much research.

Many times, as Jester had sent messages full of filler words and swearing to anyone and everyone, the Mighty Nein had joked about the terrible power the Traveler had given her with this spell. They had laughed as Essek or Allura had groggily responded to a late-night invasive question with confusion and exasperation. Sure, the ominous messages to Beau’s father were a little much, but he deserved it, didn’t he? For the Mighty Nein, Sending had always been funny, a tension breaker, a relief in their stressful days. 

No one was laughing anymore.

The first message came while they were at dinner - an already awkward affair, as everyone tried to avoid the elephant in the room (or rather, the assassins in the other room). Caleb had assured them that Astrid and Eadwulf would not be able to wander through the tower without his knowledge, which relaxed the rest somewhat, but they still avoided discussion of anything important. Instead, Caduceus regaled them with a convoluted story about his siblings getting lost in the woods which seemed to have a lesson in it somewhere that no one could quite define. 

“Wait, so, what I’m getting is that crying at that ghost on Rumblecusp was definitely the right approach?” Beau asked through a mouthful of Yasha’s bug of the night.

“What - no, that’s not what I’m saying.” Caduceus seemed genuinely confused. “I - is that really what you’re hearing…”

Caduceus’s words seemed to fade as a familiar, oily voice crept into Caleb’s mind. _“Bren, I’m disappointed. Must you run and hide like a child? Such a bad example you’ve set for Astrid and Eadwulf. I taught you better.”_

Caleb froze in his chair. Veth, sitting next to him, was the only one to notice over the argument breaking out over proper ghost protocol. “Caleb?”

He shook his head tightly, closing his eyes to respond, “I have had nothing to do with them since you failed at killing my friends and myself. Your opinions are not of concern to us.”

The table had quieted with his words. “Caleb, is it Trent again?” Veth asked voice full of concern.

“Ah - yes. Yes. He, ah, he seems to suspect that Astrid and Eadwulf have joined us.” Caleb wanted to say more, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he focused on keeping his hands from shaking as he forced down a bite of suddenly tasteless food. 

“Well, he can’t know for sure,” Fjord said. “He couldn’t have seen us before we got in here. So... we’re good, right?”

“It’s fine,” Caleb said. He waved a hand as if to tell them to continue. Beau opened her mouth as if to argue, but Caduceus drew her back into conversation. Caleb was grateful - he didn’t have the energy to argue with them, and didn’t know what else he could say, anyways.

“It’s ok,” Veth said quietly, reaching for his hand. “We have the amulets, he can’t find us anymore. We’re ok.” Caleb avoided her gaze. How could it be ok, when her husband and child and Jester’s mother had been forced into hiding because of his decisions? His decisions, which had nearly gotten the two of them killed or captured or tortured…

He was drawn out of his swirling thoughts ten minutes later, when Trent’s voice sounded in his ear once more. This time, he couldn’t hide the visible flinch. _“We both know that’s not true. Now, come home. Bring your friends, new and old. I simply want to help you with your problems.”_

Distantly, he saw the others turn at his movement, heard Beau say, “Again? Tell him to fuck off, Caleb.” He shook his head, but the intense, aching panic taking hold in his mind was making it hard to think of a better response. Finally, he managed, “There is no home to be found near you.” He wasn’t sure he had entirely hid the waver in his voice.

He looked up to the concerned eyes of his friends. “Jester, have you ever been blocked from Sending someone a message? Is there a way to… stop this?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so? It’s not like Scrying, and if the necklace doesn’t stop him, I don’t know what would? I could try to ask Arty,” she said, somewhat doubtfully. “But I don’t think he would know, or he would’ve told me already.”

“Caleb doesn’t have to answer though, right? If he does it again, just ignore him,” Veth suggested. 

“I’m not sure ignoring bullies works as well as people think it does,” Caduceus said mildly. 

“Maybe Caduceus could message him back, and tell him no one loves him again?” Yasha asked. “That got him last time.” Caleb cracked a smile that he didn’t truly feel. 

“No, it is fine. He cannot have the energy to send many more tonight. Let’s go to bed and… figure out a plan in the morning.” Caleb stood, suddenly desperate to be alone, away from the people he was putting in danger with his every breath. 

“Do you think, maybe, we could have, like a sleepover all together? It was just a long day, and I’d kinda like to be around everyone, you know?” Jester’s tone was full of innocence that fooled absolutely no one. Caleb thought about protesting, but… he was just so tired. Tired from jumping across the continent all day, yes, but also exhausted, deep in his bones, from the terror that he had felt without rest since Jester’s spell had fizzled out in the Sanitorium. Too tired to push away his selfish wish to let someone else take charge for the night. 

“Alright. Mitzi, Gretchen, Johann, will you please gather pillows and blankets for us? You may need to ask some of the others to help carry it all. Sprocket, please tell the kitchen to prepare us some hot cocoa with Caduceus’ recipe.” The cats meowed their assent and disappeared to their tasks. 

Forty minutes later, Caleb found himself in the middle of a blanket pile, surrounded by friends on all sides. They weren’t packed as tightly together as they would’ve in the dome, but the cats that Jester had pulled into the pile filled any remaining space. Caleb was nearly asleep when Trent’s voice once again filled his mind. He shot up, making Beau grumble.

_“You’ll be pleased to know that the Assembly has no knowledge of your actions yesterday. No need to involve them with a... family matter.”_

This time, Caleb held his tongue. He waited until he felt the spell fizzle out and he was sure Trent would no longer hear him. By then, most of the others were sleepily complaining and repositioning themselves. Caleb fought to keep his breathing even as he said “Nothing, go back to bed.” He laid down himself, closing his eyes tightly. There were no more messages coming today, he told himself. Trent needed rest to restore his spells too. Caleb would sleep, and would figure out what to do when he was less exhausted. 

Ninety minute later, he awoke with a start to Trent’s voice whispering in his ear, _“I was quite impressed with the skills you showed. And such an interesting affect that spell has… what a lovely addition to our repertoire.”_

Caleb opened his eyes to the darkness, trying to keep his rapid breathing as quiet as possible. He wouldn’t respond, couldn’t have responded even if he wanted to, couldn’t draw the breath for words at the moment. He scratched his arms, trying to bring himself back to the present, surrounded by the Mighty Nein, in the tower he had made for them. He was not at school, being woken in the dead of night for one of Master Ikithon’s tests… he was in the tower, he was safe….

Yesterday, when they landed hard in the Fire Plane and Marion Lavorre looked around the unfamiliar landscape with terror in her eyes, Caleb had gently taken her hand and placed it on his chest. “Breathe with me”, he had said. “In just a few minutes, I am going to create a dome for us to stay in. No one can get in except us. Just a few more minutes, and I promise we will be safe.” She nodded, making a valiant effort to follow his instructions, and Caleb stayed by her side until her breathing had evened somewhat. When Jester took his place by her mother’s side so Caleb could begin making the Hut, Marion had given him a shaky smile. He had nodded back at her, an understanding between two people who knew well the breathlessness of panic.

Now, he tried to remember the calm he had then. “Just breathe”, he whispered to himself. It was harder on his own, had always been. Before, he had Astrid and Wulf to talk him through the panic; now, he had Veth. But in the time in between he had been on his own, he had figured out how to stem the tide of fear when it swept through him.

Finally, finally, his breathing slowed, and the exhaustion came crashing back. He laid back down and closed his eyes, summoning Frumpkin to sit on his chest. The warm, soft vibrations of his purrs lulled him to sleep...

_“You are ignoring me now? Bren, you’re being unreasonable. I have no wish to harm you. Simply to discuss how we may benefit each other.”_

This time, he whispered without thinking, _“Stop it”_. Then he cringed at his weakness. Trent knew what he was doing, knew how it would jumble his thoughts into a snarled mess. He had always, always known how to control Caleb, how to push him until he bowed under the weight of it all. After all, Trent knew what was best, didn’t he? Perhaps he was being unreasonable… if he had just talked, just waited before throwing a Fireball, none of the past two days would have happened…

Beau snored, and Caleb tried to ground himself with the noise. No, he was no longer the boy who would do anything to please Trent, who would follow his command even if it led to his own death. Trent no longer had a hold on him. But _gods_ , Caleb couldn’t bear to hear his smooth, slippery voice in his head again…

But he did. The messages came at seemingly random intervals, with no pattern for him to predict. They were full of banal pleasantries, of gentle rebukes, of thinly veiled threats. Caleb spent the time between each message trying to keep himself still, to steel himself against flinching, but by the time the sixth message came, he couldn’t stop the trembling racking his body. There was no need to wake the others with his useless panic; they needed rest, even if he couldn’t get it, and there was nothing they could do anyway. 

He and Astrid and Eadwulf had learned how to resist long, sleepless nights of torture, of course. Trent had made it as efficient as possible; one of them could practice their techniques while the other tried to resist. Caleb had always been the worst out of the three, his treacherous mind refusing to stop tracking the seconds ticking by like blood dripping to the floor. Inevitably, he would break hours because Astrid or Eadwulf would have, and Trent’s pinched, disappointed face would almost be worse than the punishment that followed. 

Now, he wished desperately that he had been better to begin with, that he hadn’t let these skills lapse in the years he had been on his own. That he was strong enough that 25 simple words wouldn’t leave him floundering like a drowning man. 

One hour, two hours had passed since the last message when he friends started stirring around him. When the messages had first started coming, he planned to pretend in the morning that he too had gotten a full night’s rest. Now, though, his whole body was aching from clenching his muscles to keep from screaming; his eyes were staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, try to keep him grounded; and he couldn’t bring himself to feel surprised when he heard Beau say, “Caleb? Why do you look like you haven’t slept?”

The soft noises of the others rising stopped as Caleb felt all of their eyes turn to him. He wanted to tell them that he was fine, not to worry, but if he opened his mouth he wasn’t sure he could control what came out. 

“Did you guys dream about the Nonagon again? Do we need to check you for eyes?” Yasha asked. 

“I didn’t,” Beau said. Caleb knew her sharp mind had already connected the dots. Fine - he wasn’t prepared to explain. “Dick-a-thon messaged you again, didn’t he?” Caleb didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. She knew. “Caleb? How many times?”

Caleb cleared his throat. He felt a hand rest gently on his shoulder, and the touch cleared his mind just enough for him to feel like he could speak. “I, ah… I think I lost count somewhere around 2AM.” It was a poor attempt at humor, but it wasn’t entirely a joke; for once, Caleb wasn’t sure of a number. They had all started to blend together in his mind. 

Fjord swore, and Yasha raised an eyebrow. “He messaged you… all night? How could he have the spells? Doesn’t he need sleep?” She looked at the other spellcaster, as if for answers. 

“Well, he has never been one to do things… half-heartedly, you could say.” Caleb said. He sat up and put his face in his hands. He was past being tired anymore - now he was in that strange state where nothing seemed quite real and he thought he might never sleep again. 

“That’s fucked up,” Beau said flatly. “Like, that’s some psychological torture-bullshit.” Fjord seemed to object to her choice of words, but didn’t correct her. 

Caleb felt two hands grasp his wrists lightly. He raised his head, just a bit, and saw Jester right in front of him. Her face was full of distress, her tail flicking up to stroke his cheek. “Caleb, please, let me message him. Let me tell him to stop.” She bit her lip, her eyes shining like she wanted to cry. “Maybe Essek or Astrid or Eadwulf can figure out how to stop it for good, but for right now, can I try something?”

Caleb couldn’t bear to meet her eyes as he said, “He will win. If you message him, he will know that I was weak, that I could not handle it…” his voice cracked on the last words. 

“There is no weakness in admitting you want someone to stop being cruel to you,” Caduceus said. 

“I... “ Caleb couldn’t make this decision, not right now. “I don’t know. Just - “ he waved his hand vaguely in their direction.

“Do it.” It took Caleb a second longer than the others to turn his head to Astrid, who had silently appeared next to them. “It cannot make it worse.”

Jester studied her face carefully, taking in the barely-healed burns, the fresh cuts, the hands she held carefully by her side. Whatever she saw in the other woman’s face must have made up her mind, because she began the familiar motions of a Sending spell. Fjord, seeming surprised, hurried to catch up his finger counting with her words. She spoke in her deep, Serious voice. 

“Icky-thon. Leave Caleb the hell alone. He does not wish to speak to you. If you contact us again, we will fuck you up.” She looked around for approval. 

“I guess we’re done with diplomacy, then,” Caduceus said.

Fjord was still trying to catch up with his count. “I don’t think the ‘up’ made it. Is Icky Thon one word or two?”

The corner of Veth’s mouth twitched. “So, you said we’re gonna fuck him? Gross.”

Jester rolled her eyes. “It’s one! And - “ she cut herself off as her eyes focused on the middle distance. She listened for a moment, then grimaced. “He said-” in a spooky voice clearly meant to be Ikithon’s - “‘Jester Lavorre. I hope your mother is well. I do not wish to disturb dear Caleb, of course. I am merely... concerned. I’ll be waiting.’ He’s so creepy, you guys.”

‘Well. Then it is taken care of,” Astrid said. 

“That easy? He’s just going to stop?” Beau sounded disbelieving. Caleb couldn’t blame her. 

“For now. He has won this round.” Caleb looked at Astrid, and Eadwulf who had appeared behind him. An understanding borne of years of pain survived together bloomed between them. “Next time, he will have something worse.”

“Well, then, let’s go stop this city so that we can get back to killing him.” Fjord offered a hand to help Caleb up. He stood, and as he led the Nein to breakfast, he felt each of them touch him gently on his shoulder, his arm. Making sure he felt their support. 

He was too exhausted to shake them off. _Just this one time_ , he thought. Knowing that there would be many more.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, I didn't do a ton of research into how many spell slots Trent ACTUALLY would have, but he's a high level wizard and enough of a dick to save all of his spell slots to upcast Sending over and over so like, I just went with "a lot". I also don't know if there actually is a way to block Sendings, but there DEFINITELY should be, because clearly we have learned that it is a truly terrifying spell when used by the wrong person. Matt pulled out the big guns with this one, I'm just playing in his sandbox.
> 
> Also, Caduceus absolutely told everyone Taliesin's Narrative Telephone story. With less alliteration. Probably.
> 
> T-46 days until my exam!! I may or may not write more, we shall see!!


End file.
